Winds of Change (Hearts of the Outback Book 4)

by Susanne Bellamy

  He knew what each touch was doing to her.

  “I stood guard outside but the slope and the angle of the mess tent hid Tabitha from view. I’d say she was out of sight for twenty minutes. Twenty-five, tops.”

  Caleb made dot point notes and looked up. “Right. That’s got to be when the strap was cut. Jax, what’s your present position on this project?”

  “Advisor. I tell the director how the army does things and he ignores me. It’s worked well so far.”

  Not even Jax’s sarcasm quelled the sick sensation that rose in Willa’s stomach, like bad déjà vu. Or karma coming back to bite her. Before Caleb voiced his request, she sensed what was coming. It thundered in her ears like a runaway freight train. And she was tied to the tracks.

  “How would you feel sticking close to Willa for the time being?” Caleb’s question dropped into the silence like a stone in water.

  She had to stop it. Stop Jax from accepting because she knew with a terrible certainty that his sense of honour wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise.

  “I don’t need a bodyguard. That’s asking too much of Major Heathwood. He’s been volunteered into this project and I think—”

  “I was about to tell the director I was quitting the project. That won’t be happening now.”

  “Jax, it’s fine. The film company will hire security. You don’t have to martyr yourself over it. I know you don’t want to be here.” Words tumbled over one another in her desperate attempt to hold back the inevitable.

  If Jax in small doses had made her brain mush, how much worse would it be with him shadowing her every move on set? Complicated would be an understatement. “Please, Jax. It isn’t necessary.”

  “I don’t trust anyone else with your safety, Willa. Not while we have no idea who or why the attempt was made. You’ll just have to put up with me for now. Deal with it.”

  Chapter Ten

  “I’m sorry, Willa, but Caleb Richards has requested Jax be part of your protection plan and he’s agreed. End of story.” A glimmer of sympathy shone in Brodie’s gaze. “I don’t know why you keep fighting the attraction. Any other woman would be jumping for joy having a man like Heathwood assigned to protect their body. You two have such—”

  “Don’t you dare mention that word.”

  “Chemistry. Why deny it?”

  Willa’s shoulders slumped. Brodie had been her last hope to nix the bodyguard idea. The best she could do now was limit exposure to Jax. And that meant she needed an approved driver for the ride to and from the set before Jax locked in the driving time with him.

  Laurie knocked on the open door and entered, her laptop held high as she stepped around a pile of boxes stacked along the wall. She cast a look of understanding at Willa as she set the laptop on the desk in front of Brodie. “Here’s today’s schedule, boss.”

  While Brodie scanned the screen, Laurie fiddled with a ring on her right hand. “Hey, Willa, how are you feeling? That was sure scary. Lucky thing that wrangler was riding the horse when it happened.”

  “Wasn’t it.”

  “Where’s the meeting I asked for, Laurie? I can’t find it.”

  Laurie leaned over Brodie’s shoulder and pointed out the answer to his question, and Willa considered how to minimise her exposure to Jax. The drive to and from work was a good place to begin.

  Surely Jax would approve the production assistant’s involvement, or maybe her father. No, Dad couldn’t take time off work when shooting schedules were altered with little notice. At worst, she’d risk driving herself at night, although she doubted Jax would agree. He knew better than anyone how night-blind she was.

  “Laurie, would you be willing to pick me up and drop me home each day?”

  “Sure. Happy to.”

  Brodie sat back and handed the laptop to Laurie. “That’s fine. Get that out to the crew and tell the gaffer I want to see him pronto.”

  “No problem. Consider it done. Oh, and Major Heathwood asked for a few minutes with you before you head out.” Laurie squeezed Willa’s shoulder in passing before she closed the door behind her.

  Brodie picked up a pen and began tapping it, repeating the simple riff over and over and Willa allowed her mind to wander. Mentally ticking off transport, she considered how else she could avoid Jax while appearing not to.

  “Willa?”

  Brodie had stopped tapping, and the silence in the office was a startling contrast to the beat.

  Willa looked up. Piercing hazel eyes watched her like a hawk. She straightened in her seat. “Sorry. I’m a bit distracted.”

  “It’s not half obvious.”

  “I won’t let it affect my work.”

  “I know. Tell me about you and Jax.”

  Damn and blast. Was she that obvious?

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Enough, Willa. Someone tried to stop this production and I want to know who and why.” He tossed the pen on the desk and leaned back in his chair.

  “It’s not Jax.”

  “I’m aware of that. Jax and I had a long talk last night with Detective Richards. They shared several theories, one of which included an attempt to stop production by taking my star out of action.”

  “You sound as if the production is more important than the fact Sarah could have been killed.”

  “You know me better than that.” His eyes glittered and Willa felt contrite. Brodie wasn’t the enemy; he wasn’t just her director. They had a friendship of sorts that came from mutual respect and while she might have longed to work with Clint Eastwood, Brodie also had a reputation of being easy to work with while getting the best out of everyone on the production.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s unsettling to think someone might have targeted you, but I’m happy now Jax is keeping watch over you. But I want to know what is, or was, between you. Anything that might offer an insight into what’s happened.”

  Keep it simple.

  She took a deep breath, and another. Brodie’s request was reasonable under the circumstances. Her personal problem with Jax was less than nothing when the safety and welfare of the entire cast and crew could be at stake.

  “I’m sure my connection to Jax is irrelevant but—“

  Brodie raised an eyebrow. It was enough.

  “Ten years ago, we dated. Then Jax left to join the army and I went off to NIDA. Separate dreams, separate paths, end of story.”

  “And now?”

  “Now? Just—acquaintances, nothing more.”

  Someone knocked on the door and Willa half turned, welcoming the intrusion. Anything to put a stop to the inquisition.

  Jax opened the door and looked from her to Brodie. “Laurie said you’d be free now. I can wait outside if you—”

  “Come in, Jax.” Brodie waved him over to the seat beside Willa.

  She pushed away from the desk and stood. The chair legs screeched as she gave Jax a wide berth. “I know you two will have lots to talk about so I’ll just run along to makeup. Can’t keep the director and crew waiting.”

  “Just a moment, Willa.” Jax didn’t touch her but she found herself obeying the command implicit in his tone.

  “I really need to get moving.”

  “Brodie, have you thought about my suggestion?”

  “I’m not sure it’s feasible. Actors Equity might give us some leeway for Sarah but—”

  Certain she was in a nightmare, Willa looked from one to the other. They couldn’t . . . they wouldn’t, would they?

  If Jax hadn’t been given an express order by his superiors, he’d have put as much distance between himself and the film crew as possible. There was no way he’d dream of suggesting—

  She smacked the desk with her fist. “No. You are not putting Jax in as an extra. That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?”

  “Close. Jax suggested he could arrive as a replacement for the character we killed off. Or as a contact from a command centre located elsewhere. Both scenarios could work with minimal rewrit
es.

  “If we had enough time, I’d write a whole new storyline for the two of you.”

  “No way. It’s bad enough you’ve convinced him to be involved in security but you cannot put him on screen.”

  Jax folded his arms, as solid and immovable as Uluru. “It will allow me to keep you under close surveillance at all times.”

  Close.

  “You hate movies, you hate acting. Don’t you think that will show? It’s a terrible idea.” And it would give her no respite from him.

  “Besides, what if the person who cut the horse’s strap is one of the crew? Everybody knows you’re the advisor but if you suddenly turn up as an actor, you might scare them off.”

  “That’s the idea; to keep you safe.”

  “I thought the idea was to catch them.”

  “Now, kids.” Brodie stood and made a shooing motion at Willa. “Take your squabbles outside and let’s get on with our work. Jax, we’ll go with the status quo for the time being.”

  “Very well. Willa, after you.” He stood and indicated she precede him through the door.

  “I can find the makeup tent on my own, thank you very much. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “I don’t babysit. Wherever you go on the lot, I go too. And no, it’s not open for discussion.”

  “Jax, a word with you.” Brodie’s voice sounded tense but Willa was grateful for the reprieve.

  She stomped out of the office alone, and headed for Suzie’s tent. Outrunning Jax might be impossible, but she could freeze him out.

  Her movements were jerky and the headache she’d woken with had grown worse by the time she stopped outside the entrance to Suzie’s makeup area. Flicking her hands and jogging on the spot, she tried to release some of the tension building within her. Digging deep, she plastered a smile on her face and stepped inside.

  “Sorry I’m late, Suzie.”

  “No worries. I’ve got your costume ready. You can change here before I start on your makeup.”

  “Had another meeting with the boss.”

  “Oh? Something to do with the accident, I suppose. You know what you need—” The makeup artist helped her pull off her civvies and held out the khaki trousers she needed for the day’s shoot.

  “Oh, Suzie, not you too?”

  The swish of canvas brought Willa’s gaze to the entrance as Jax walked in and stopped dead in the doorway. The flap fell closed behind him.

  Willa froze with one foot in the trouser leg. Jax’s green gaze zeroed in on her and his eyes widened before his focus dropped, leaving a scorching trail down her body.

  Jax had seen her wearing far less than underwear. Skin on skin had been their favourite covering. But this was different. Intense.

  He looked at her like the intervening years hadn’t happened, as though he wanted to explore every inch of her skin with hands, lips, tongue.

  She bit back a groan and let the trousers fall around her ankles.

  “You can’t be in here, Major Heathwood. Not until Miss Raynolds is dressed.” Suzie’s stunned comment broke the spell before she placed both hands on Jax’s chest and pushed.

  Jax blinked, and his mouth snapped shut as he thrust his hands into his pockets and allowed the diminutive artist to push him backwards. “Sorry. I’ll be outside.”

  Shit.

  Until he’d walked in and seen her in that plain white bra and undies, his plans to keep Willa safe had been simple. Keep her close and maintain vigilance while the detective conducted his investigation. Jax’s plans hadn’t taken into account keeping her safe from himself. Without the makeup woman standing there clutching a T-shirt to her chest, he and Willa would have been making out by now.

  How was he to protect her when the image of Willa in little more than skin pushed every other thought from his head? She made him want to return to the carefree days, before the ugliness of war had changed him. Before he became a soldier. Whose duty was to protect.

  He tipped his head back and closed his eyes but nothing would clear that memory.

  Footsteps approached. His body tensed ready for action as he opened his eyes. The detective looked around as he joined Jax. “G’day. Where’s our girl?”

  “Detective Richards, good morning. Willa’s inside, getting dressed. How’s Sarah?”

  “Resting. My mother is looking after her, which means endless pots of tea and horse talk.

  “What did the director decide? Are you on or off set?”

  “Status quo for now.” If Brodie’s decision had been otherwise he’d have accepted the mission—for Willa—but he couldn’t subdue the sense of having escaped a fate worse than death.

  “You look about as keen as I would be. So no hankering to become a film star?”

  “I’d rather take another bullet.”

  “Where did you serve?”

  “Syria.”

  “Injured? I noticed you had a slight limp.”

  Unwilling to elaborate, Jax nodded. His injury was nothing compared to the pain of Private Santos’ family. The young soldier’s fiancée had been inconsolable and Jax held himself responsible. He should have given the lead to a more experienced man, or done something differently. A flawed decision based on incomplete intelligence had led to the private’s death and lives were changed forever.

  “Will it affect your ability to protect Miss Raynolds?”

  “No.” He wouldn’t allow it to.

  He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew the sheet of paper Brodie had given him after Willa left. “The director received this note this morning.”

  Brief and brutally clear, he knew it word for word.

  First - a falling star. Next - a shooting star. Get rid of her or I will.

  Caleb took the paper and read the contents before folding it and putting it into his pocket. “Have you told her?”

  “That we have a loony on the loose or that she’s definitely the target? No.”

  “Hold off telling her. I’ll get the lab guys to run some tests on the note. In the meantime—”

  “I won’t let her go anywhere alone.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Laurie turned the car into Willa’s street and bumped over the kerb on the footpath in front of her parents’ home. “Darn, I can’t get the hang of driving on the left. Why don’t y’all drive like we do at home?”

  Willa laughed and unbuckled her seatbelt. Nothing bad had happened during filming and, with Laurie’s connivance, she had given Jax the slip at the end of the day. “I really appreciate the lift. See you at six a.m.”

  “Sleep well. Night.”

  Willa shut the passenger door and Laurie bumped off the kerb and drove up the wrong side of the street. Willa clapped a hand over her mouth and stared in horror as a small van came around the corner. The taillights swerved back to the left and the van driver honked his horn. Laurie waved out her window in apology before disappearing around the corner.

  Perhaps driving with Laurie was more dangerous than with Jax, but Willa preferred to risk her neck than her sanity. Jax stirred up feelings, which led to poor decisions.

  Like deciding to follow him instead of her dreams.

  After a storm of tears and self-doubt all those years ago, she’d packed away the idea of a life with Jax. Loving him had made her vulnerable. Never again would she give up that power to anyone.

  She walked up the steps and unlocked the front door. Pushing it open, she stepped inside. “I’m home.”

  Silence greeted her; the house was in darkness except for the sensor light on the veranda. It clicked off. Willa sucked in a breath and blinked as though that would clear her sight. Moving to the wall, she felt her way along until her hand connected with the switch. She pushed it down, blinking in the sudden brightness, and walked down the hallway.

  “Mum? Dad?”

  Were they out the back at the barbeque? The aroma of dinner cooking had greeted her each night when she came in and her mother usually had a bottle of white wine to share. Willa raised her head and sn
iffed as she entered the kitchen, and flicked on the light above the island stove.

  The kitchen smelled of toast and bleach. Used plates and a half drunk mug of tea sat on the breakfast counter and a crumpled red paper serviette lay on the floor beside a stool.

  Under the mug was a piece of paper. Opening it, she held it up to the light.

  Dear Willa, bad news. Maureen has been rushed to hospital. Heart attack. Dad and I catching next flight to Mackay. Sorry, darling.

  Love, Mum xx

  Willa leaned on the bench and covered her mouth, stifling the cry that rose. Poor Auntie Maureen. Poor Mum.

  Blinking away tears she sniffed as she pulled her mobile phone from her bag and pressed the speed dial. The call to her mother went straight to voicemail and she tried not to panic. Maybe her parents were in the intensive care unit. You couldn’t use a mobile device there, could you?

  Or maybe Mum had forgotten to turn her phone on after the flight. Should she call her uncle, or her cousins? Someone must have their phone handy.

  But it took four calls before her youngest cousin answered. A hospital announcement filtered through the phone as he told her everyone was in the waiting room. “The doctor said Mum will recover okay. Do you want me to tell your mum you rang?”

  “Please, Terry. And tell Auntie Maureen I sent my love.”

  As she ended the call the silence of the house pressed in around her. It was too quiet. She missed her mother’s bright chatter and her father’s occasional remarks, and the creak of ancient springs as he shifted in his recliner.

  Needing to shake herself out of the sadness trapping her like a spider web, she opened the fridge and took out a bottle of wine, grabbed a glass and headed for the bathroom. A much-needed drink, a soak in the bath, and soothing music might help her to sleep.

  She poured a large glass and set it within easy reach then turned on the taps, added scented bath salts and stripped off. With her phone on the vanity unit, she scrolled through her music library until a playlist for jogging came up and she hit shuffle. The compilation had solid beats that would keep her mind from dwelling on her aunt’s heart attack and how quickly a life could be snuffed out.